


Fishsticks

by Ceminar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Merman Cronus, NSFW, Vomiting, Watersports, Xenophilia, implied vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:04:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceminar/pseuds/Ceminar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things can only go well for so long in a relationship between a certain purple blood and a naive mertroll. Eventually, they'll have dinner... With one of them being on the menu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fishsticks

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, more GHBCro. And I am as bad at titles as I am with tags. New kinks to try (because why the fuck not?) Annnnnnd... I'm still not sorry. Trash Baby Cro is my Go-To right now.
> 
> Sometimes, I just wanna write something that doesn't end well. And again, if I missed a tag, let me know please and I'll fix it.
> 
>  
> 
> [This is literally all I listened to as I wrote this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJXrq2qEPhc)

Life under the sea was great. No real troubles once you learned to avoid or steal from the hooks with odd treats and the nets that were sometimes thrown out, dragging up anything unfortunate, or stupid enough to get caught up in them. The land dwellers were often dangerous, at least as far as the sea trolls knew. They had varying blood colors, just like the mertrolls, but where they had two, the land walkers had 10. The warmer bloods, rust, bronze, yellow, etc, were more manageable and more likely to let one of them go if accidentally captured. The cooler they got, though, the more ill-tempered they became.

The worst were the purple bloods. They were to the land dwellers as the fuchsia bloods were to them. The highest of their kind, and the most volatile if left unchecked. And it just so happened that they lived closest to the water.

But that didn't bother Cronus. In fact, he liked to watch them, try to interact with them. He would hide just below the waves or behind rocky outcroppings to see what these trolls were up to, to hear them talk, root around the beach for buried shellfish. It was so odd, he thought, how they did this. The tools they used. When it was late; He would drag himself ashore just enough to be out of the water, but not too far that he was stranded, and gather their tools, examine them, mimic them. It was fun, for a while. But he always got bored and returned to his underwater home, where he would tell his bored, bored friend about it, much to her displeasure. In fact, she got so fed up with his fascination with them that she left, told him that he should just go FIND one of the glubbin things and pail them if he was so flush for them.

That hurt, but he let if roll off his immaculately kept fins. Pail them? Nah... He just wanted to get to know them better. And without her to talk to, or anyone really, he just... Spent more time trying to learn about them.

Which led to the biggest mistake of his life.

It didn't start off so bad at first. He had stayed up late watching the land dwellers. More specifically, the purple blood whose hive was right next to his territory. Complete coincidence. Totally. Yeah. He had stayed up watching him, and fell asleep long enough to be caught by them. He panicked, of course, flailing in that net and getting more tangled, feeling it tug at his gills, his fins. When he came face to face with the figure he watched for so long, he realized he was... Much larger than he imagined. When they reached for him, he braced himself for pain, but none came. He cracked open an eye to see just what happened, realizing that they had freed him.

“Well ain't this some interesting shit right here...” The troll rumbled, grabbing him by the shoulder and holding him up to get a good look at him, how his brightly scaled tail dragged across the sand, his bare torso with gills that seemed to be lined with violet fur. He rubbed across one of them, earning a scared chirp from the half-fish in his grasp. Cute.

“Look, chief. Let me go, alright? Wve can talk about this like ciwvil trolls, can't vwe?” Cronus asked in a shaky voice. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh shit. This was how he was going to die, wasn't it? His fins flapped helplessly against his skull as his gills flared to match his quick intakes of breath. “Please, just let me go an-”

“Alright.”

“Wv-wvhat?” Cronus asked, staring incredulously at the other. The larger troll just shrugged, dragged him over to the water and let him go.

“I said alright motherfucker. You hard of hearing or some shit?” He folded his arms across his chest, watching as the sea troll moved further into the water until he could move freely. “I said alright. I got no use for a scaly motherfucker anyway.”

Cronus just looked so relieved, swimming over to hang onto his favorite rock. “Thanks. I mean it, chief, I'm in your debt.” He gave him a smile, all sharp teeth. And rows of them. The other returned it with one that was just impressive.

Oh... He liked that.

“Name's Cronus, by the vway. Cronus Ampora...” He wasn't sure if the other would take it, but it was worth a shot. Maybe not all purple bloods were bad?

“I'm the Grand motherfucking Highblood.” He announced, sitting on the sand and watching the other. “Guess it's nice to fucking meet you, my pretty, fishy brother.”

Did he call him pretty? And his Fishy Brother? Cronus' fins wiggled, glad the other thought so highly of him. Friends. They were friends now, right? Yes. They were.

From there, they spent sweeps together. Highblood would come out and sit with him on the beach, petting the others scales as they told each other of their evenings. Highblood culling insolent fools, Cronus hunting and taking care of a giant lusus. He worked with others of the same caste, but they didn't... exactly get along.

And every day, weather permitting, they spoke like this, and watched each other grow. Or, at least Highblood grew. Cronus aged much more slowly, which was a common sea troll trait.

But unknown to Cronus, the land troll had other thoughts on his mind as they spoke. Just how did that fishy motherfucker taste? How long would would it take to cook him all the way through? Heh... He grinned to himself, half listening to the other now as he started on his 'exploits'. Maybe he wouldn't even cook him. Listen to him scream as he tore chunk after chunk out of him.

Just how long before he stopped screaming? Before he stopped moving? He mentally groaned at the thought, reaching between his legs to press at his bulge as it threatened to make a mess of his pants. Not now. But soon.

The moons started to set, signaling time to return to their homes to sleep. Cronus waved Highblood off, counting this as another good day and swam off to see his partners, ask them about their day hunting now and, of course, dinner.

Highblood returned to his hive to plan and prepare.

It would be a few more evenings before they would meet again, and Cronus was so ecstatic to see his land dweller that he pulled himself onto the beach to wrap his arms around the others leg, as that was as far as he could reach. It wasn't the first time he had climbed onto land to initiate physical contact with the troll. It wasn't even the most intimate they had been, considering both were curious about the others anatomy. The differences between them besides the lack of gills, etc.

Highblood, being the good friend he was, hefted the other up. “Guessing you missed me, huh, my scaled brother?” Cronus just chirps happily, wrapping his arms around the other neck and nuzzling his hair. Oh, he did miss him. Having someone to talk to that seemed to understand and enjoy his company. He would never suspect any... Foul play.

While Cronus chattered to him, telling him what he missed in the time he had been away, he started walking with him, not stopping until they were closer to his hive, where he had dug out a spot just for the other, filled with enough water to keep him comfortable. Cronus' eyes lit up at the sight.

“Ah, chief, you shouldn't hawve!” He said, pulling away from him and dropping to the ground with a thud, crawling over and sliding in with a happy groan, feeling the water coat his gills. It was a little small, and the tip of his tail fin lay spread across the ground, but it was still nice.

Highblood flashed him a grin before turning his back to him, working on that pile of wood in front of him, safely out of splash range. “Glad you enjoying it, motherfucker.” Last 'nice' thing he might get to experience. He laughed to himself.

“Wvhat you doing owver there?” He asked, laying on his stomach, arms folded on the ground as he leaned forward, trying to see. “Vwhat are you about to do? Cook something?”

Highblood laughed aloud then, turned and brought himself face to face with the other. “Damn right.” He smiled wide and Cronus shrank back some. He had... Never seen the other like this. That wild, crazed smile. His voice wavers as he asks just what, exactly, the other is planning on cooking, feeling a cold stone sink in the pit of his stomach. He screeches, flails when his face is grabbed, and Highblood drags his tongue across his face, his neck, leaving a trail of purple spit in its wake. “”I'm about to get my motherfuckin wicked grub on this delicious finned motherfucker...”  


Cronus felt all the color drain out of his face. The water around him took on a hint of violet as his bladder emptied itself in fear. No. No, no. He was different. They were friends. He clawed at the other, nails catching the others cheek, but only leaving light scratches that beaded with the others blood. He cried out when his wrists, both of them, were grabbed, a rope tied around them and pinning the fins on his arms down. He thrashed when he was dragged from the water, tail waving, smacking against the others legs, the ground, anything to try and free himself.

He couldn't breathe, but that didn't matter. He was dragged closer to the fire, tied to a thick wooden pole. The heat was unbearable. He screamed, his voice echoing around in the night, but no one answered, no one came to his aid. He squirmed, writhed, trying to get away from the searing heat that burned his flesh, filled his nose, his mouth, his lungs with the smell and taste of it. He looked over, seeing Highblood with his head back, his hand stroking the massive bulge between his legs.

He was getting off on this. On the pain, the screaming, the panic of the other. He was loving every second of it and Cronus felt sick. But his squirming seemed to have some effect, for he fell, right into the fire. His screams grew more shrill as he dragged himself forward, tears flowing down his face and stinging the burns as he tried to find water. Any water that was away from there. He managed to get a few feet away before a large hand grabbed the base of his tail fin, lifting him up until he was face to face with that purple monster, blood rushing straight to his head.

He felt so sick. His mouth was forced open, and without warning, the bulge was forced into him. “Figure a motherfucker might as well get a good fucking taste a me before I get a taste of you.” Cronus cried harder, feeling bile rise, backing up behind the intrusion. He felt it move back as his stomach emptied itself now, coating the Highblood from the waist down, pooling at his feet as strings of it stuck at his own face, in his still smoking hair. He feared the other would hit him then, but no.

He did so much worse.

He laughed, dragging him back over to the fire.

“Always liked that look.” He said, righting him, holding him by the hair now. He stretched his mouth open again, forcing his fingers deep into his maw this time. “Covered in all sorts of miraculous juices...”

He didn't know why he didn't bite at those fingers, but the same sick feeling overcame him again, and again, getting sick over the other, over himself. He coated Highblood's chest, his hand and arm in violet tinted liquid, only to have those fingers forced into him again, more bile dripping down his chin, his chest, all the way down to his tail. He did this, again, and again, until his stomach was completely empty.

“Now that you all up and fucking basted in these juices...” He licked those vile fingers of his before taking hold of Cronus' face. He was too weak to struggle anymore. He just hung limply in his hands, eyes with only the barest hint of life, of a will to live, downcast, hands still bound in front of himself. “I think it's time to see just how fucking done my pretty fishy is.”

One last scream left him as he felt those teeth sink into his flesh.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, and if anyone was wondering what my thoughts for this Mer!Cro were, it was a fighting betta. Because come on, they're aggressive, but so pretty. [Just look at](http://animal-world.com/encyclo/fresh/anabantoids/images/Betta\(bluemale\)WFA_Ap4Be.jpg) [these little shits!](http://www.aquariumfish.net/images_01/cambodian_betta_male_120216b2_w0640.jpg)


End file.
